


The First Time

by deedee_devil (mainegirlwrites)



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Captain America is a virgin, F/M, Natasha is the teacher, feels like the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:59:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10468719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainegirlwrites/pseuds/deedee_devil
Summary: Steve Rogers was just a little guy, unlucky with the ladies before he became Captain America. Am I the only one that thinks he is a virgin? Here's how his first time plays out in my devious brain....enjoy! KUDOS & Comments make me warm and fuzzy!





	

The First Time

 

Natasha and Steve watched as Nick Fury nodded to his own gravestone, then quietly walked away. The two superheros stood for a moment in silence, then Natasha announced her leave.

“Wait,” Steve said. Natasha flung her fire red hair over her shoulder and glanced back at the man. He stood, hands shoved into his pockets, biting his lower lip. “Can I ask you something?”

Natasha shrugged. “Sure.”

“Um..,” he dug a toe in the pristine grass of the cemetery. “So when we were in the mall, you know how you asked me - after we kissed - ,” he looked away, tendrils of a blush rising into his cheeks. Natasha turned towards him, arms crossed. Yes, she remembered with regret, how she had teased him while riding in the truck they had stolen. _Your first kiss since 1945?_

“Yeah?”

“It, um, well, I mean, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” his piercing blue eyes finally met hers, though still half-hidden by his baseball cap.

Natasha turned and placed her hands on the hot cheeks of the suddenly very vulnerable superhero.

“Steve,” she said gently. If only she could put into words how she had pushed the passion of that kiss far down, as far away from her heart as she could. If she had let it, that kiss could have lifted her off her feet with its tenderness, its pureness, its desire. Even now, standing near him, she could feel her heartbeat quicken.

“No. It was not bad, not at all. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way,” she finally said. He pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them on top of hers, turning his head and brushing his soft lips against the palm of her right hand. Natasha could feel her own cheeks begin to burn. Steve quickly dropped his hands and took a step back, stumbling over the flowers decorating Fury’s ‘grave’.

“Okay. Well, stupid of me to ask. You have to go, so I’ll see you later,” he stuttered. He began to walk away, shoulders hunched and head down. Natasha caught up to him with a few quick steps and tucked her hand under his arm.

“Come on, big guy. I know a place we can go,” she steered him towards her black car, only to pop herself into the passenger seat. She gestured towards the steering wheel when he hesitated. “You drive.” _You be in control, Captain. You steer this ship._

He glanced at her and grinned like a little boy when the engine fired up and he found first gear. She laughed out loud as the tires squealed and he hooped with glee. Natasha typed an address into the GPS so he only had to glance at the screen for directions. Along the way, she pointed out a few good restaurants, chatting amiably. She caught him glancing at her when he could, looking at her, really looking at her, not just the red headed, svelte superhero, but the woman. His hand was resting on his leg, and she placed hers demurely over his, her fingers grating against his inner thigh as she locked fingers.

The Captain pulled the car up to the entrance of a large hotel, the bellboy quickly taking the keys and another one inquiring if he could bring up their luggage.

“None today, Tom,” Natasha answered, taking Steve by the hand. They strode through the extravagant lobby, Natasha nodding to the concierge, who smiled and joined her at the elevators.

“Welcome back,” the concierge greeted warmly. He entered the elevator with them, and pressed the top button while turning a key.

“Secret access,” Natasha giggled to Steve, wrapping herself around his broad arm. He smiled down at her, though a shade of uncertainty veiled his eyes.

 _Oh, God, I giggled_ , she thought. _I friggin’ giggled. What is wrong with me?_ Before she could lament at her behavior any further, the door opened and led them directly to a massive penthouse suite on the top floor.

The concierge nodded them inside, and murmured that if they should need anything at all to contact him directly. Steve thanked him as Natasha purposefully walked to the kitchen, passing a large granite island and stripping off her jacket to reveal a tight-fitting white t-shirt underneath. Yanking open the refrigerator door, she grabbed two beers. She pushed one into Steve’s hand as she pounded hers, striding deliberately towards the balcony. Steve slowly followed her.

“What is this place?” he asked. Natasha turned towards him, the wind pushing her hair across her face.

“Used to belong to a drug lord. When I brought him down, as a thank you from the hotel that he was terrorizing, they gifted it to me. This is where I live, Steve. Its the closest thing to a home I’ve ever had. I’ve never even brought anyone here before. This is my secret escape, my world away from the world out there,” she gestured to the city, eighty stories below.

“Well it's quite a place. It suites you,” he sipped his beer and leaned against the balcony, looking down. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Natasha felt jumpy, jittery. She flopped into an overstuffed outside couch, letting the quiet breeze cool her cheeks. Steve turned to look at her, his head tilted.

“You okay?” he asked. The sun began to set behind him, making him a perfectly shaped silhouette against the twinkling lights of the city.

 _He is perfect,_ she thought. _Physically perfect. And a real sweetheart. Shouldn’t be here with me. Should be making some nice girl happy. Like that girl in accounting._

“This was a tough mission. Thinking Fury was dead was - well, just devastating. We made it through though, right?” Natasha gulped at the beer, knowing her words felt trite. Her toe tapped against the concrete floor. She was so damn bad at expressing her emotions. Steve walked over and sat next to her, chuckling when the cushions practically enveloped him.

“We did good,” he said, patting her knee.

Natasha leapt to her feet and walked back into the kitchen. “Another beer?”

He followed her, rubbing his arms. “Getting chilly out there. No, I better go.”

“Go?” she asked. She turned and shut the refrigerator door, two more cold beers in her hands, and he was right there, so close she ran right into him. She was awkward. He was too. Like two silly teenagers - but he was all man. She could feel the heat from his body, smell the soothing scent of musk that he exuded. 

“Or, I can stay.”

They were inches apart, eyes locked, searching. Steve broke their gaze and stepped back, removing his hat and rubbing his short, blonde hair. She realized he was just as nervous as her, if not more so.

_Why am I nervous? He’s the virgin here. _

It had been an interesting, and not uncommon, thought that had crossed Natasha’s mind. Prior to becoming Captain America, Steve had been just a scrawny little guy. No luck with girls, even he had admitted to that. Then as soon as he became a super soldier, he was off doing those shows, then fighting a war, then in a plane crash, then sleeping for 70 years -

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Natasha,” he took one of the offered beers and sighed deeply.

“I know,” she replied. Reaching up to loop an arm around his neck, she brought his lips down to meet with hers. His lips were soft, so soft, and after a moment, parted and kissed her back. He wrapped an arm around her, and the cold glass of the beer he was holding touched the bare skin of her arm. She shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked against her neck.

“Yes....and no,” she said, a shiver running through her again as he kissed her neck, rubbing his rough stubble over her delicate skin. He pulled back, looking at her, brushing the hair back from her forehead. She closed her eyes, finally allowing her body to feel like a woman’s at a man’s touch. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto the kitchen island, his hands back in her hair, pulling and playing.  He stood between her spread legs and ran his trembling hands down her back, pushing her lithe form into his. She could feel he was already hard. Natasha shoved her hands down the back of his pants, her hands running down his clenched buttocks.

“I want - I need - ,” he sent a shuddering breath into her ear. Natasha eased herself off the counter and led Steve into the bedroom, where there was a large king sized bed, another entrance to the balcony, and a fireplace along with several leather couches and book-lined walls. She stood by the fire as Steve started it, shaking hands dropping the matches twice before the fire took. When he stood back up, Natasha had taken off her clothes. The firelight danced against her black bra and panties and glowing skin. She helped him pull off his shirt, and lead him to the bed where they lay side by side.

They were man and woman now. Not co-workers, not superheros. No pasts, no presents, simply only now. Steve drank in the sight of her body as she lay back and slipped off her bra.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “I want this. I want you.” He nodded, and kissed her forehead, each cheek, her nose, and finally her lips. His mouth trailed down her neck to her breasts, and she gasped as he enveloped a nipple with his warm mouth.

Yes, this was his first time, she was sure. His kisses were demure, searching, young. He sucked, his teeth grazing the most sensitive part, and she guided his hand to her other breast. Steve grasped it hard and she arched her back, ecstasy beginning to envelope her. He straddled her, and took the other breast in his mouth, grinding his pelvis into her, groaning.

Natasha pushed gently on his shoulder and he rolled over on his back, muscles rippling. As he gazed up at her, she massaged his arms and chest, finally allowing her fingers to drop to his waist to undo his belt. As she began to ease his pants down, he grabbed her hands.

She glanced up into his eyes, smiling gently at the scared boy she saw in there. _He can save the world, but he’s afraid of what might happen with a girl_ , she thought.

“It’s okay,” she said, and he nodded and released her hands. She pulled off his pants, and then pulled off his boxers. He was hard, no doubt, and just like everything else about him, he was big. She took his cock in her hands and rubbed up and down, kissing the head. Steve threw his head back and cried out, his hands digging into the blankets. Slowly she took as much of him as she could into her mouth.

“Na...ta...sha....,” he panted, his legs quivering. “Oh, God.”  She kissed his stomach, crawling up on top of him, removing her panties along the way. When she reached his face, his teeth were bared and his eyes were clenched shut.

“Steve,” she whispered. “ _Steve_.”

“It’s too much, Tash. I feel things - ,”

“And that is how it is supposed to be,” she reassured him, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. “Relax.” He nodded and released a deep breath, his fingers finally releasing his firm grip on the blankets.

She arched a long leg over his torso and brought herself down on him. He grasped her hips and pushed himself up into her. They both cried out in unison. She lifted herself up and down, surprised when she could already feeling the pulse of her coming rise up between her legs. Natasha took his hand and placed it there, where she was already so wet, and encouraged him to touch her. Steve finally opened his eyes wide at the feel of her, and his other hand caressed her breasts. Natasha doubled over onto Steve, panting and shaking, her body one great spasm. She dropped her head onto his shoulder and begged him to please stop, but he grabbed her hair and pushed himself into her again and again and his hand didn’t stop touching her until her body rocked like never before, his voice gruff in her ear to _let go, its okay, to just let go_ until she was crying and smiling and limp across his broad chest.

She grasped his wrist and to his amazement put his fingers in her mouth and sucked.

 _Wow_ , he mouthed.

 _There’s a lot I could teach this country boy_ , Natasha thought. She pulled on his shoulder, urging him to position himself on top of her. There was a moment of awkwardness as he wasn’t sure where to place his legs, but after he was settled, she grasped his buttocks and pulled him into her. Natasha watched as his eyes closed in concentration, full lips slightly agape. His chiseled face was flush like a little boy’s. Slowly he rocked as she touched his face, his chest, his back, feeling his sweat of exertion and ecstasy. She could feel him get even harder inside her, and the tendons of his neck stood out as he got closer to climaxing. With a cry he came, crashing into her, shuddering, sweating. He lay on her, kissing her ardently, crushing her but it was comforting, not painful.

They lay, panting, still as one. Natasha didn’t want him to leave her. Her nightstand was just within reach, and she pulled open a draw and pulled out her little battery-operated friend. Steve raised his eyebrows at its appearance.

“What?” he panted.

She reached behind him, spread his muscular cheeks, and touched its vibrating surface to his back hole. Natasha felt him stiffen in uncertainty, his hands clenching her shoulders. His mouth formed a round o as she pushed it into him, and another part of him began to stiffen again, too.

Steve groaned, looking at Natasha with confusion.

“Its okay,” she whispered. “I want to do this for you, my hero.”

“No. To you I only want to be Steve,” he said. “The only one who  - knows - me -,” he clenched his teeth as she went deeper with the vibrator. He buried his head into her neck, his breath surprisingly cool against her sweaty neck. Natasha brought her legs around him, bringing him into her.

“Yes. Only Steve. I promise.”

With a push and a groan, he released into her again, his hot tears dripping against her neck.

“Oh, Tash. Oh...Tash,” he whimpered. She wouldn’t let him off that easy. She eased herself out from under his weighty frame, turning him over onto his back again, taking him once again into her mouth. He futilely attempted to resist her, but she pushed his hands away. She could taste herself and him together, and it almost made her high. She pulled and sucked, only satisfied when Steve groaned at her efforts. When he was close, she used her hand, and kissed him deeply as he released on his stomach.

“Four times,” she murmured, wiping off his molded abs with a corner of the blanket. “I be you could go forty more, you superman.”

“You got the wrong hero,” he smiled at her. Steve picked up the vibrator where it lay on the bed beside them, a bemused smile touching his lips. He shook his head and placed back on the bed.

 _God, he’s so damn endearing_, Natasha thought.

He stood and scooped her into his arms, bringing her to sit on the couch facing the dying fire. As he added a few logs, she slipped into a dark blue silk robe that she had tossed onto the couch only that morning.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. Natasha looked away and shook her head, pulling the robe tight around her. Steve knelt in front of her and grasped her hands. “I’m not saying that because of what’s happening here tonight. I’m saying that because its true and I want you to believe that.” He put his head on her lap and she gently stroked his hair.

“Thank you,” she said. Natasha wanted to say so much more, but her ability to speak was taken away from her tonight. Her words seemed so glib and unrefined. She wanted to tell Steve how wonderful and selfless he was. How handsome. How funny. How sexy. How pure. How this night with him meant more than all the meaningless, faceless men she had ever had. That the taste of his lips was honey and salty and he smelled like that sweet smell right after a rainfall in the spring.

She felt him smile against her leg, then he rocked back on his knees, and without prologue, spread her legs and pushed his head to where they met, tasting her. Natasha fell back against the couch, opening herself to his mouth. She could tell he was exploring with his tongue, touching places maybe other men may have known not to, but that made it all the more pleasurable. She grunted when he approached the sweet spot, and he heard her, circling back to it until she moaned. His tongue was strong and soft and warm. Steve put his hands under her buttocks, easily lifting her up to him. She fell back, letting him do as he pleased, until she came again.

“You - you can’t just - sometimes you have to stop or - you might kill a girl,” she sighed.

“Sorry," he said, giving her a half-grin. "But now I understand what all the fuss is about.”

Natasha chuckled. “Yes, all the fuss,” she agreed. They lay together on the rug in front of the fire, spooned together as one.

“So...you could tell. My first time,” he ran a finger up and down her leg.

“I’m honored. You’re....gentle and sweet. And good. Really, really good,” she told him truthfully. Maybe it was beginner’s luck, but she had never had anyone play her body like he did.

He scoffed into her ear. She turned toward him and gave him a playful slap on the cheek. “Give yourself some credit. I didn’t even have to fake very much _at all_ tonight.”

Steve feigned a hurt expression, then smiled. He ran his hand down her back and between her cheeks, entering her from behind with his fingers. Natasha reached down to touch him, and damn, he was already hard again.

“You turn me on so much,” Steve growled. He grabbed her, now so much more confident, and brought her to him with a purpose. She feigned  a struggle, and they wrestled for a moment rolling on the floor until Steve was able to grab her hands and hold them over her head. Natasha squirmed as his kisses became little bites down her neck and on her shoulder. When he tried to crush his lips against her mouth, she turned away until he grabbed her chin and forced her lips to meet his. Steve clawed at her body, tearing her robe away like a piece of tissue paper. Natasha gasped for breath. He pulled away, suddenly uneasy.

“God, Steve, don’t stop now!” she pleaded.

“You’re okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay!”

He sat up, regret on face. “I’m sorry - I just - I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he whispered, fingering the shredded robe.

“You won’t. You can’t. Just do to me whatever you want," she said, touching his face gently. Steve looked up at her, his steely blue eyes filled with bewilderment.

"Steve, it's all right if things get a little...rough."

"Really?"

Natasha had to drop her head and smile. "Yes, really. I'll show you some...videos later."

"We'll Google it," Steve said, nodding.

"Yes, we'll Google it. Together," Natasha agreed, her head spinning at just what she could show him. "But for now....," she crawled up on his lap, encircling his trim waist with her legs. She kissed him, biting his lower lip and scraping her nails down his back. Natasha rubbed against him, wondering how he had stayed hard during their entire conversation. _Probably another added benefit of the serum_ , she mused. _He could probably do this all night._

"Yes, now," he agreed, nuzzling her neck, reaching down between his legs. He struggled for a moment, but Natasha helped him, arranging his legs so he could easily enter her. They looked at each other, eye to eye as he slowly rocked her, slow enough that she wailed for him to come and when he did he cried out her name, kissing her lips, her ears, her breasts, crashing into her until he was so deep that he shook and wept and the morning light found them still entwined together like lovers.

 

 


End file.
